Crescent Scar
by CoconutMigration
Summary: Blaise Zabini, tan-skinned, Quidditch-playing god. He's perfect, right? Pfft, depends on what your definition of "perfect" is. What's Zabini going to do when he finds out that his girlfriend has feelings for Malfoy? Abuse&Swearing. Give it a chance. ;-;
1. Intro to Apathy

**Well, everyone… I found five chapters of Crescent Scar that I had written about three years ago on my computer today. After editing them, I said fuck it, and now I'm posting it.**

**If it sucks, tell me. If you like it, tell me.**

**Sorry if there are any grammar mistakes. I don't have a Beta.**

**I own nothing.**

**There's abuse and shit in here, just a warning.**

He grabbed my arm in one last desperate attempt to make me stay. "Don't go, Tessa." He was trying to make himself sound tough and unaffected, but his electric-blue eyes gave away what he was really feeling.

When he saw that I wasn't intimidated by his tough-guy tactic, he tried a different approach. "I'm sorry," he whispered. _Sorry doesn't cut it, _I thought, wrenching my arm out of his grasp.

He touched me. He had actually _touched_ me. The thought repulsed me, bringing up bile in my throat. I had to get out of there before I lost it.

Turning around, I ran down the hallway, pushed open the large circular door with the snake emblem on it, ran through the hallways to an exit, and stepped into the cool night air. It was a good thing that no one else had been in the common room. Now I was beside the lake, the silver moon shining on its surface, illuminating the castle grounds and casting dark shadows on the Forbidden Forest.

And, with the moon also illuminating my overflowing eyes, I cried.

I used to have a twisted version of a perfect life that I had come to accept. A dysfunctional family, an abusive boyfriend, friends that were lifeless and had no personality. But recently I had come to realize that everything was... basically fucked up.

My family hated each other, but I thought that this was normal. It was normal to come home to your dad screaming at your mother, normal for him to take his anger out on you by using the Cruciatus curse, normal for us to have a silent, angry dinner, which would be followed soon after by me running up to my room and drowning my sorrows in music and Ben & Jerry's Heath Coffee ice cream. Normal.

Father got away with torturing me because, of course, he was a Death Eater, as was my mother. I used to think that he was torturing me because I was bad. At night, I used to whisper to myself when I alone, repeating the same sentence over and over. _Father loves me, Father loves me, Father loves me. _

The funny thing was, I actually believed these childish, hopeful words when I should have known better. Usually I was not so stupid, but, when people are desperate enough, they will believe anything.

I was told that my mother was once beautiful and full of life, but, in the last years of her life, she was a haggard, lost soul. It used to scare me so much, when I called her name and she would slowly turn her head, staring at me with dull, colorless eyes.

Dead eyes. Soulless eyes.

What frightened me even more is that, sometimes, she didn't recognize me. On one of her bad days, she asked me in a small voice, "Who are you?" It killed me that I couldn't help her when she needed me most, that she was beyond help. It still does.

So my family life was slowly sucking the life out of me. I didn't worry about most things that other teenage girls thought about, like hair, clothes, boys. Not that I needed to worry about boys.

My parents passed on the better of their traits, and I ended up with long, straight blonde hair, eyes so gray that you could see through them, and a not-too-skinny body. You'd think that random boys would come up to me and ask for my number. Not so much.

They were put off by my Gothic appearance. If you were the type who labels people, you would call me a "Goth/Emo". Usually my outfit consisted of black skinny jeans, studded bracelets, and heavy metal band t-shirts.

Occasionally I would wear a black tank top that hugged my body, but if anyone came up to me, they would see the bags under my eyes and the tortured look in eyes. Then they would pretend that they were looking past me, and then would walk past me to go ask some other hot girl out.

Outsiders in the Muggle world probably thought I was on drugs. Wizards and witches would assume that I was studying extremely hard. Or maybe, just maybe, some would suspect that I was a young Death Eater.

And I wasn't. People always assumed that, talking behind my back. As I walked through the hallways of Hogwarts, I would hear the occasional, "Don't look now, it's the Bringer of Death!" and, "Hey, there's Malfoy's twin."

People also always assumed that Draco Malfoy was my sibling. Seriously, just because we both had blonde hair and gray eyes, and because we were both from rich, Voldemort-supporting families did not mean that we were related. I didn't even know him on a personal level until...

Until I met Blaise. Then I was hanging out with his posse all the time.

Blaise was a perverted jerk who didn't care about my feelings, but I stayed with him for about two years or so. My father had made us date, and, in his mind, Zabini and I were going to get married or something.

So I didn't want to make my father angry. Blaise wasn't that bad, I told myself. But he was.

Blaise was abusive, using his fists to take things out on me. He was exactly like my father, and maybe that was why dad had taken such an interest in him. But Zabini didn't use the Cruciatus curse as a torturing method. He used brute force.

Blaise had a bad family life, not that that's an excuse. His dad used to be a Death Eater, but, after killing three Muggles in plain sight in a neighborhood, Mr. Zabini was caught by three Aurors and put in Azkaban. Blaise had never seen his father since the incident.

Mrs. Zabini had never loved Blaise, and, after her husband died, she committed suicide. Blaise has blamed himself for her death ever since. Now he was living with his aunt and uncle, two idiots who didn't know how to take care of children. They basically ignored him, not that he really cared.

My boyfriend would always be so angry and nasty, always punching me if I ever said anything out of turn. It really made me miserable to think that I was having to deal with my dad all over again, but in a younger and hotter form.

Oh, god, Blaise was beautiful. Whenever he would fall asleep on my bed from a day of exhaustion and spying for The Dark Lord, I would just take in all of his features. The dark, tan skin, his long, black eyelashes, shaggy, black hair falling over his eyes. He seemed so innocent, making me contemplate: _How could something so beautiful on the outside be so ugly within?_

This story, this memoir - it isn't about Blaise. It's not about my love/hate relationship between my father, or about how my mother died, and it's not about how my lack of a childhood messed me up for a little bit. It's not even about me getting on the track to recovery, getting back to "normal".

Make whatever you want out of it, but to me, this story's about appearances. You know that saying, "What you see is what you get"? And then there's "Don't judge a book by it's cover"? Oh, and my favorite, "Beauty is only skin-deep"?

Well, those sayings don't apply to everything. Hardly. Like, for Blaise, beauty _was_ only skin-deep.

But Draco was an entirely different story.


	2. By All Means, I'm Getting Mad

**Hi again.**

**Thanks to ka72ty and millie-mae for reviewing. Hopefully more of you do the same!**

**Uhhh… more swearing and abuse. See? Fuck fuckity fuck. Blehhhhh.**

**Music listened to whilst editing/fixing this chapter: Bayside.**

I drew in a shaky breath, rising to my feet, hesitant about leaving the comfort of the green and silver sofa that I had been sharing with Blaise for half an hour. I had been waiting for him as he copied my Potions essay, some stupid assignment about the magical properties of a bezoar.

He handed me back my paper, now slightly crumpled, and snapped his book shut. "Thanks, babe," he said, kissing my cheek. "It's a good thing we're in different classes, or Professor Snape would expect something was up."

I was about to say, "He _knows_ something is up, he just doesn't care because we're Slytherins," but instead I just nodded my head a gave a small smile. You never knew what Blaise would take offense to. It was like walking across a grassy plain with a blue sky above your head, a field of deadly mines that were stretched before you. Anything could set them off.

Forcing another smile, I slid my shabby purse onto my shoulder. "Sorry, Blaise, I have to go... go talk to Professor Sprout. I'll see you at dinner?" He smiled, saying, "See ya," and kissing me on the cheek again before going off to his dorm. This was both of our free periods, but Blaise always spent it hanging out with his friends.

He didn't suspect that I went to the library for all of my free periods. He hated people who were bookworms, or top-of-the-class kids. Basically, he didn't like the idea that I was smarter than him, which I was. Blaise wouldn't have liked the idea of me going to bury my nose in a book every single day.

I was free. Free for an hour, but to me, it was a year. God, free from all of his punches, verbal and physical. Free from all of his shit, an hour to me, myself, and a book. That was my idea of a paradise.

Blaise didn't hit me _all_ the time, just when he was angry. He was kind of mellowing out, only picking fights with me about once a week. And sometimes, spending time with him was actually enjoyable.

But sometimes he was a complete dick.

My Converse high-tops thudded against the marble steps as I made my way down the staircase leading to the library, my sanctuary. Since my first-year, I had been using a concealing charm to warp the appearance of my clothes, making it look like I had robes on, when I actually had on Converse sneakers, gray acid-wash skinny jeans, a plain black tank top and, of course, a black hoodie to hide my collection of bruises.

Only students could see through my ruse. A few people had figured out the spell, but nobody had snitched on me. They didn't want Blaise's fist in their face.

Pushing open the familiar wooden double-doors, I closed my eyes, inhaling the comforting smell of musty books, ancient texts, and old documents. _This _was where I belonged. Not in the common room, helping my ape-like boyfriend copy my homework.

I walked past the Arithmacy section, the Mythology section, and the Divination section, behind the wall of books labeled "Potions-Dark Arts", back to where my table was. It was my table because I sat there everyday, no one bothering me, hidden from plain sight. So imagine my surprise when I saw that Draco Malfoy was sitting there, scrawling something in a little silver notebook, deep in thought.

Draco was one of my only friends, and he would only hang out with me because a.) I was with Blaise, and b.) Our parents were Death Eaters. He liked to boast over the fact that his parents were more prestigious than mine.

Draco used to be a git, being a huge bullying, but crying like a sniveling baby whenever he was punched or hexed. He'd also always mock everyone, and bragging about his wealth and status was his favorite thing to do.

But, ever since becoming a Death Eater, he was... changing. He was tougher, in a way. He didn't cry when someone tried to beat him up anymore. But he had isolated himself from the rest of us. He was distant, caught up in his own world.

Draco didn't bully anyone for fun anymore. He didn't talk to anyone. It seemed like he wasn't even there anymore, just a shadow of his former self.

Like me.

Anyways, he couldn't know that I was here, or he'd tell Blaise, and... I didn't want to think about it. I was about to speed-walk away when Draco looked up, a surprised look on his face. "...Smith?" he asked, calling me by my last name and snapping his notebook shut. Great.

I nodded, sliding into the chair across from him, dropping my red and black bag onto the gray table. "What are you doing here?" we both asked each other in unision, causing both of us to stop.

"What are you doing here?" Draco asked again, his intense eyes boring into mine.

"I-I'm working on an Ancient Runes paper we had to write...," I trailed off.

Not suspecting that I was lying, he replied, smirking, "Oh, I don't take Ancient Runes. It's for overachievers who have nothing better to do than study their lives away."

I gulped. Did he just insult me? I shook my head and asked, "What are you doing here?" And the unspoken question, _What were you writing in that little notebook?_

He shrugged, putting his arms behind his head and tilting back on his chair. "I needed to catch up on some Transfiguration homework that I was neglecting." Transfiguration homework? Why would he be writing it down in a tiny silver book?

Which is what I asked next.

"Then what was that small, silver notebook you were writing in?" I wondered aloud.

Draco blinked. "Erm, it was... my notes. For the class." He looked nervous and

uncomfortable. I could _so_ tell he was lying.

Whatever. I had mercy on him and didn't ask anymore questions. Who knows, maybe the infamous Draco Malfoy kept a diary?

For the rest of the period I helped Draco with a Dark Arts project that was due tomorrow. Him being Draco, he hadn't even known that there was a project. And, me being Tessa, I helped him get it done by the end of the period.

Surprisingly, he had actually talked to me. Well, not a lot, but it was better than the "Hi" and "Bye" I got every breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Was Draco going back to normal again, minus his mean personality?

Draco started packing up his materials, stuffing his quill and parchment into a bag. "Thanks," He stated shortly, walking with me to the great hall for dinner. I nodded in acknowledgement, happy to help.

Who knows, maybe we could become friends.

ooOOooOOooOOoo

Blaise was waiting for me at the table, his other friends, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, and Theo. His eyes narrowed into a familiar gaze that I remembered, and, standing up, he visibly clenched his teeth. _He must be jealous that I'm actually talking to another guy_, I realized.

There was going to be hell for me tonight if I didn't do something. I quickly walked over to him, dropping my bag onto the table and slid my small hand into his gigantic one. Pale white on light brown. So different.

Kissing his cheek, I said, "Hey babe. Missed you," and I pasted a fake smile upon my face. God, how many unwanted smiles had I given in my lifetime? Blaise's face softened as he saw that nothing was going on.

"Missed you, too," he said hesitantly, then sat down, clearly wanting me to do the same. I sat across from Draco and Pansy while Blaise sat across from Goyle and Crabbe. Theodore was on my right side, his black and purple-tipped hair standing in spikes this week. It was always something new every week.

Theo was the only one whose parents were not Death Eaters besides Pansy, but he was so funny and charming that nobody seemed to notice or care. Nobody besides me seemed to realize that he was also very into Muggle culture, dressing in skater clothes on the weekends and playing guitar. He was the only one I could talk to about music, which was a large obsession of mine.

Blaise had tried to force me to not wear Muggle things, but I just couldn't stop wearing those clothes and listening to Muggle bands. Blaise was still bothered by it, but he had let it slide.

I still had a scar along my leg from the fight. He had hurled a lamp at my feet, causing the glass to shatter on the carpet, one large shard wedging itself into my ankle. The scar itself wasn't that big, just a white, curved line that curled from the outside of my right ankle to the base of my heel.

Hopefully history wouldn't repeat itself and I wouldn't get hurt so badly again tonight, I thought, filling my plate with mashed potatoes and gravy, chicken, and broccoli. Blaise, however, was eating a very healthy dinner that consisted of an apple, a glass of water, a small salad, and three carrot sticks. Maintaining his chiseled physique meant getting rid of fatty foods and carbohydrates.

He looked at his plate and then mine, comparing them, and right then I knew he was going to say something. And, of course, he had to put in his two cents.

"Are you really going to eat _all that_? Jeez, put some back and save some for the rest of us!" I flinched, and, not meaning to look up, saw my friends' faces.

Theo was frowning at me, Pansy was smirking, Crabbe was sniggering, Goyle was drooling over the food, and Draco was staring at me with a look of disbelief on his face. _What? _I wanted to yell at them. _What's wrong with eating like a normal person?_ I also wanted to cry.

Then I saw that Draco was shocked over the fact that Blaise was so rude to his girlfriend, not at the fact that I was eating a fattening dinner. He must've been pretty distant to have not heard all the other comments Blaise had said about me. My so-called "boyfriend" gave me degrading remarks every week. And Theo was frowning at Blaise's actions, not mine. I was glad he was my friend.

I swallowed hard and scraped some of my mashed potatoes off of my plate onto the food platter. "A little more." Blaise prodded. Draco was now staring hard at Blaise, and I could see the look of disgust on his face. What, did he not notice that his best friend was the biggest douche on the planet?

"Blaise," Draco's voice cut through the tension like a knife. "Why don't you just lay off and give her a break?" I held my breath, and saw everyone else do the same. Did Draco have a death wish?

Blaise must have thought the same thing. He stared hard at Draco before replying, "Draco, she's my girlfriend. Let me deal with this." Then Blaise turned back to me, saying as though he was explaining something to a kindergartener, "Now, what do you think you _should_ have put on your plate?"

Feeling sick, I answered dully, "A pear." Blaise handed me a pear and smiled at me, a triumphant smile. I wanted to punch that smile right off his fucking face. Instead, I took the pear and bit a small chunk out of it.

I wanted my mashed potatoes. Now.

Fuck.

Blaise's smile grew wider as he said, "That wasn't that bad, now, was it?" Draco shook his head slightly as I shook mine, both in unision but for completely different reasons.


	3. Change for the Good, Change for the Bad?

**I just wanna smack this bitch in the face and scream, FIGHT BACK! Yes, I'm talking about my own character. But don't worry. She won't stay pathetic for long.**

**Thanks to the anonymous reviewer "Me" and ka72ty for reviewing. And to RikaMalfoy for the story favorite. It means a lot to me, guys! **

**To everybody else: MOTHERFUCKING REVIEW! ;-; Please.**

**MORE SWEARING AND ABUSE, you know the drill.**

**I don't own anything that you recognize.**

**Music listened to whilst editing/fixing this chapter: Five Finger Death Punch, A Day to Remember.**

I woke up, whimpering in pain as I remembered the new bruises that spotted my arms. Blaise had been given a detention from McGonagall, so he had taken his anger out on me. I was his human punching bag, unfortunately. Not like I wanted to be or anything. That was just the way it was. Nothing I could do about it.

Making sure not to bump my bruises, I gingerly got out of bed, slowly stretching in a futile attempt to make some of the ache go away. I put on my outfit for the day, jeans with a studded belt and a Transformers t-shirt. Almost forgetting my gray and black striped hoodie, I grabbed it and slipped on flip flops. Now to face Blaise at breakfast.

Blaise acted like nothing had happened that night, as he always did. Breakfast was fine, except that I had to restrain myself from eating any French toast with cereal. Blaise wanted me to eat plain oatmeal, but I rebelled for once and told him to stuff it. I had just woken up, still pissed off from our fight last night, and I was hungry for some Lucky Charms. Blaise just shrugged, deciding not to get upset over something so little. Good.

I had also gone to the library for my free period again, and, lo and behold, Draco was there. And I think he was waiting for me.

And so, that was how the month passed. Me meeting Blaise at breakfast, going off to class, meeting Blaise at lunch, going of to class, seeing Draco at the library and getting to know him a little more, seeing Blaise at dinner, passing out on my bed.

After secretly meeting with Draco for the whole entire month of November, and into December, I had come to realize that he was definitely different. His father had recently gone to Azkaban and, even though he didn't like to talk about it, Draco was conflicted. He got this weird blank look on his face whenever he opened up to me.

Plus, there were these rumors going around that he was going to become a Death Eater in order to replace his father. I hadn't asked him about that yet, and I didn't plan on asking him ever. That was too personal.

There were some things that were too personal for me to tell him, too. Like everything.

So now it was two and a half weeks before winter break, and I was in the common room with Blaise, Draco, Pansy, and Theo. Goyle and Crabbe were serving detention for throwing cupcakes at the headmaster's gargoyle (Don't ask). I was snuggled up in Blaise's arms by the fire, feeling content and full, seeing as how we just got back from dinner. Pansy and Draco were on the couch, Draco on one side, Pansy on the other, staring at him. Pansy was what you would call a stalker and she was obsessed with Draco. Most of the time I felt bad for her though. That girl really loved the kid.

When Pansy finally decided to go to bed, Draco turned to Blaise, Theo, and I. "Since we haven't hung out in a while, I'm inviting you guys over to my place for Christmas. You can come to my house at the start of winter break."

I cried with happiness, inwardly. Usually Christmas at my house was bland and dull, a joke. It was like any other day, and I was one of the few who hated Christmas. Our family was forced to communicate, and the end result of the day was usually a screaming match between me and my father or the cold shoulder from him.

My mom used to love Christmas. Up until I was about seven years old, she would adorn the hallways with ribbons, bows and tinsel. She'd even play horribly repetitive and cheery Christmas songs on this old record player that we'd inherited from my grandmother after she died. Christmas used to be fun.

A lot of things used to be fun. Or maybe I was just innocent and naïve enough to believe that they were.

Blaise usually went over to Draco's for Christmas. Lucky him. And he never invited me, always wanting to spend time alone with him and the "guys".

"I can go," Theo replied. He was never very talkative and only answered if necessary. Unless you were talking about music. Then he wouldn't stop talking!

"That'd be great," Blaise said. "We'll both be able to go, too. Right, Tessa?" I nodded and smiled up. We had been getting along lately, and I hoped that this type of behavior continued. No matter how much we fought, there was a little part of me that would always love Blaise. I snuggled in closer to him, closing my eyes and just breathing in his musky scent. Everything was okay. Christmas was on its way. Things were changing, growing, adapting. Things were getting better.

Two weeks later, Blaise was in a coma.

It was a Friday, three days before we were supposed to go over Draco's house for Christmas. Blaise was sent on some stupid spy mission for the Dark Lord and something happened. I don't exactly know what; no one would give me any details. All I know is that one minute Blaise was perfect and beautiful, and the next, he was lying in a hospital bed in St. Mungo's Hospital.

I cried. I sobbed so hard I thought my lungs would burst, ribcage splitting open to reveal the bag of dust that was now where my organs used to be. I mean, Blaise was _mine_. Even if he hurt me sometimes, even if he had a temper problem, I loved him. I knew him, and even though he was abusive, he was really a good person inside. Somewhere inside.

He loved me.

Sitting on the hospital bed while holding his hand, I remembered all of the things we had shared. All the secrets he had told me. About how he had kissed Pansy Parkinson in First Year, about how he had severed a twig off of the Whomping Willow as a sort of a trophy when Draco had dared him to do it. I thought of the tiny mole he had on the back of his neck, and how he hated it, but I thought it was cute.

Darker memories of the past two years flooded through my skull from a dark crevice in my mind that I had always kept hidden but knew it was there, lurking in the shadows. Blaise told me things, like how his father had once had an affair with another woman, but Blaise forced himself to keep quiet. If he told his mother, what would she have done? It would have only gotten her beaten.

Memories and thoughts whizzed through my head until I couldn't hold them in and they all got crowded inside and jumbled and blurred and I couldn't breathe and I couldn't see and I couldn't think and I can't see and I can't say anything why can't I _do_ anything and I'm going to explode-

Someone called my name from across the room, but I couldn't answer them. I was hyperventilating so hard it felt like my chest was going to erupt into flames.

"Tessa! Calm down! It's okay, it's alright, Blaise is going to be fine!" A hand clamped down on my shoulder, causing me to jolt and look up and see - Draco. My shoulders sagged and my body heaved as I cried tears of everything. Tears of sorrow for Blaise, tears of nostalgia for all the great times we'd had, tears of relief that someone was there for me, that anyone was there for me, to catch me if, _when_ I fell. And tears for the fact that I was crying for someone who had hurt me, over and over again. Crying because the same thing had happened to Blaise, and my mom, and his mom.

And then Draco Malfoy was hugging me. And I was hugging him back. And for a few seconds, for the first time in a long time, everything was alright.


	4. Childish Euphoria

**Uhmmmm…**

**Thank for ka72ty for reviewing… again. :D To the rest of you… you make me sad. I could use some reviews, here. It'll take you five seconds to type the word UPDATE in the review box.**

**And thanks to katie93319 and sweetcherrypie007 for the favorite/story alert.**

**I own nothing. Thanks for reminding me.**

**Warnings for abuse and motherfucking swearing. Christ, I hate repeating myself.**

**Music listened to whilst fixing/editing this chapter: Portugal. The Man.**

After my mental breakdown, I went back to Draco's house. My father had come to the hospital and agreed that it was for the best that I stay over the Malfoys' for Christmas break. It was most likely because I was just another burden to him, and it was great to get me off his chest for two weeks. Crabbe and Goyle were too busy to visit for the holidays and Theo was off vacationing with his parents in Switzerland for three weeks. That left Draco and I.

Most of my stay there I can't even remember. Half the time I spent sleeping, and the other half was spent worrying about Blaise. It was only until the twelfth and last day there I stopped moping around and slightly enjoyed my stay. Draco and I once even went outside to build a snowman, which his mother, Narcissa, insisted we do.

"Oh, you'll have fun," she called as we grudgingly trudged outside in two pairs of ancient snow boots that Draco had been forced to find in dusty old closet. I just slipped on one of my older hoodies and a pair of gloves. I figured we wouldn't be out in the cold that long, considering the fact that we wanted to hurry up with the stupid snowman and get back inside.

Draco's mom was average. She wasn't over-the-top cheerful, but she was very kind and wanted me to enjoy my stay at her manor. I think that she wanted me to soften up Draco a bit, since around his parents he was as cold as stone.

Lucius was still holed away in Azkaban, a subject that I dared not bring up around the two remaining Malfoys. It was the elephant in the room on Christmas day, but no one addressed the awkwardness of the situation. Narcissa had tried to make it feel as homey as possible, which was slightly hard to do with Draco. But I was genuinely delighted with the small trinkets she had purchased for me.

Their backyard was extremely and unnecessarily large. Lifting up a clump of snow, I slowly molded it into a perfect, white ball. The snow particles easily stuck together to form the perfect starting snowball. _Good, _I thought. _Decent packing snow. _This wouldn't take long.

"What are you doing?" Draco said, bewildered.

"I'm making a snowman," I smiled. "Would you like to join me?"

"… Whatever," he said, coming over to squat down beside me. After a brief pause, he tentatively asked, "How do I do it?"

"You just," I paused, pushing the snowball hard enough so that it accelerated on its own for a few feet, "roll it." He looked at me with a confused eyebrow raised, then shrugged and took over the job of rolling the small snowball.

I stood and watched for a few minutes, waiting for him to tire out. "Do you want me to push it now?" I called to him, as he was rolling the now-large mass of a ball in a crazy path over to the other side of the yard. He shook his head.

With a rising sense of boredom that was growing as surely as was Draco's now good-sized chunk of snow, I decided to have a bit of fun. Scooping up a handful of snow, I packed it into a circle. After shaving of the excess flakes, I weighed the orb in the palm of my hand. The perfect snowball was about to hit Draco Malfoy smack in the backside. I raised my arm, and swung, watching as the snowball flew through the air in slow-motion, in a perfect arc, and -

My snowball landed three feet in front of the giant Mother snowball. Of course, my aim was off, just like any other time I had ever tried to throw something. Draco looked up with surprise on his face, and he did a double-take at the spot where my perfect ball had landed, now buried beneath the mini-snowdrift it had created.

He stood up and wiped his snow-crusted hands on his pants, only succeeding to get his pants snowy and wet. Pointing to the snowball, he asked, "Did you throw that thing at me?"

"Yep," I pleasantly replied, and threw the snowball I had been hiding behind my back at him. This one, even though it had been thrown without the careful precision I had executed on the first one, floated through the air and promptly hit Draco in the face.

He squeezed his eyes shut and wrinkled his nose against the thick, white powder that now made his face ever paler than it was before. He wiped the snow off of himself and charged at me. "Bring it on!" he shouted, and before I could react, he had run across the yard and tackled me into quite a large snowdrift that I was planning to use as a fort.

"This means war!" I laughed as I struggled out of his grip. Then I stopped myself. I had laughed, and it had felt good. Smiling at that thought, I giggled.

"What's so funny?" he spat.

"Oh, nothing," I answered him, brushing the snow off of me. "It's just that you kind of resemble a giant snow bear right now."

"You've just sealed your fate," Draco growled, and grabbed at a pile of snow, quickly forming a snowball and nailing me in the chest. Letting out wild cries, we both started to finish the battle. But not the war.

Our wild snowball escapade lasted thirty whole minutes before we remembered that we were supposed to be building a snowman. The reminder for me was the fact that I fell over it, causing a big part of the back to crumple and fall into a snowy heap. Draco looked at me and looked back at the unfinished snowman with a strange look on his face. Then he turned and started walking towards the house.

"Hey!" I called to him. "Where are you going?"

"Inside," Draco answered, not looking back.

"But what about the snowman?" I questioned.

"What about it?" he replied, opened the door, and disappeared inside.

Outside when it was just me, it was eerily silent. The snow had just begun to fall in big, fat flakes that now started to stick to my glasses. After standing there for a second, the silence turned from slightly overwhelming to extremely peaceful. Closing my eyes, I raised my face to the chilled air and let the sounds of nothingness wash over me. It felt so… pure. A kind of happiness that I had never experienced before.

I took a breath in of the cold, crisp air, making it feel like my lungs were cleansed of every impurity. It seems stupid to say this now, but it felt like even my _soul_ was fresh, fresh like the new snow falling on the ground, filling in our footprints and sweeping away the impressions we had made earlier. I have no idea how long I stood out there, feeling like an awe-struck little kid, catching snowflakes on my tongue, but after a bit my toes started to feel frostbitten. I walked up to the house, feeling bad for all the pretty, clean snow I was ruining.

Clambering inside, I shook off my snow-caked clothes and took off my shoes, being careful not to get the floor wet. I hated when you had socks on and you stepped into something wet, y'know what I mean? Anyways, I was freezing so I called for the Malfoy's new house elf, Serafina. She popped into the room with a loud snapping noise, causing me to cringe. House elves scared me, even though my family had one of its own.

"What does Miss Smith need from Serafina?" the repulsive thing asked.

"I just wanted to see if you could make me some cocoa," I half-asked.

"Of course she could," Draco smirked, striding into the room. He addressed the house elf coolly, as if it were a burdensome, stupid animal. "Serafina, make Miss Smith some cocoa."

"Yes, Master Malfoy," she replied. She looked like a puppy with her tail between her legs, caught doing something bad. For some reason this infuriated me, maybe because it reminded me of myself. Why couldn't the thing stand up for herself like a normal person? She didn't do anything wrong, so why should she let him treat her like that? I waved off the thought in my mind, though. It was none of my business.

Is that what people thought when they looked at me? A simple shrug of the shoulders, a slight turn of the head? Was it none of their business?

"What were you doing out there?" Draco turned to me, looking annoyed but curious at the same time.

It was hard to put my earlier euphoria into words, so I tried to explain it as best I could. "I was catching snowflakes on my tongue," I told him. "It was really beautiful."

He looked at me like I was going crazy. "That's… interesting," he said awkwardly.

I nodded. "It's something you'd have to experience for yourself," I offered apologetically. He shrugged, not quite understanding, but not pressing the matter any farther. An awkward silence fell between us, so I grabbed my drink and went up to my room.


	5. Transparency

**Yay, plotline advancing.**

**And there was much rejoicing.**

**Abuse and swearing, whoop-di-doo.**

**I OWN NOTHING! WHY DO I HAVE TO REPEAT MYSELF? WHY AM I SCREAMING? OH WAIT, I'M TYPING. NEVERMIND.**

**Thanks to people who reviewed and favorited/alerted. I appreciate it, guys. :)**

**Oh yeah, sorry if this story's too emo or something. I don't know, I just don't really like how pathetic I made the main character seem. But really, she's not pathetic! Just wait.**

**Music listened to whilst fixing/editing this chapter: Five Finger Death Punch.**

My clothes were cold and wet, so I slipped on some drawstring pajama pants and a dry t-shirt. Plugging in my laptop, I got online and checked my email. There were no messages, surprise surprise, so I went to go get my headphones. As I got up, though, I paused, hearing something. Draco's soft footsteps floated up the stairs, briefly stopping at my room. He paused a second, debating, then made up his mind and opened my door.

He stood in the doorway, then came in, turned the wheelie chair in my room around, and sat in it. No hello, just an intense gaze. "Hey," I said, now sitting on the bed. "What's up?" Draco sat there with the same weird look on his face that he had when I had fallen over the giant snowball, like he was struggling with something. "Are you okay?" I asked, concerned and confused.

"Could I…?" he glanced at the doorway, like he was having second thoughts about coming in here. Then he turned to me and took a deep breath. "Could I ask you about something?"

I cocked my head to the side, replying, "Sure." What else could I say?

"Ok." he hesitated. "Did… Well, I hope this isn't too personal, and please don't get offended or anything, but.. Did Blaise ever…?" he couldn't finish the rest of his sentence, but I didn't need to hear it. I hoped to everything in the world that he wasn't about to ask what I thought he was going to ask.

"Did Blaise ever what?" I asked sharply.

Draco blinked fast twice, then choked out, "Did Blaise ever hurt you?" Saying it out loud made me look down, my face burning up. I couldn't answer him, so he cautiously pressed even more, "Tessa… did he ever… hit you?"

I looked down fast, blinking the tears out of my eyes. How did Draco come to that conclusion? What gave me away?

"Yeah, okay? He hit me. Are you happy now?" I snapped quickly, angry now. Angry because I was about to cry, angry because I was even in this situation. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. "You can't change anything. You can't do anything. So don't even bother." I forced myself to look up at him. He was sitting there, processing it all.

There was a long silence before Draco did anything. Then he stood up, opened the door, and walked out. I sat there, slightly shocked. I had expected him to lecture/harass/question me. My mind started reeling, just overwhelmed by the sudden change of events.

Draco walked in, something in his hands. He through a little silver notebook onto the bed and, without uttering a word, walked out, shutting the door behind him. I stared at the door for a second, trying to understand. Then I turned my attention to the notebook. I remembered this from the first day of meeting Draco, one day that soon turned into many. My curiosity had been buried deep inside me, but now it was back, burning as bright as ever. Picking up the notebook, I studied its outside. Nothing special, just a small, silver journal. Then I opened it.

_October 15, 2010_

_Everything in my life is plastic._

_October 17, 2010_

_It's overwhelming how fake everybody around me is. How can they be so happy when I'm so miserable? Just thinking about it depresses me._

_October 20, 2010_

_When I think about it, which I do all the time, I have no friends. None at all. I'm not sure if I should be happy about this or not. Goyle and Crabbe are repulsive and stupid, so stupid that they don't even know that I'm using them. Pansy is… I'm not sure how I view Pansy. It's obvious she's obsessed with me, but I just don't find her attractive. Theo is friends with everyone, and his affections for Muggle items absolutely disgusts and horrifies me. How can you enjoy listening to Muggle crap when your parents work under the Dark Lord himself? Then again, Theo is and only child and his parents do love their darling dearest boy. Blaise is my only friend. We've shared everything. Secrets and sorrows. I just don't understand his girlfriend. When I look at her I can't see anything. Just numb. Is that what people see when they look at me? … I hope not._

_October 23, 2010_

_Overheard Father and Mom talking last night. Outcome not good._

_October 25, 2010_

_I hate the uncertainty, not knowing, unpredictability. God, I feel so detached from reality. Why me? I think… for the first time ever I doubt my father. I used to think he had all the answers. And he had to land himself in fucking Azkaban. And he left Mom here to deal with all this shit. She doesn't need this. She doesn't need to deal with this… with me._

_God, FUCK._

While I was reading this, I just sat there. I didn't know what to think. The information, the words were just filling up my brain, and they were the only things I concentrated on at that moment.

_October 27, 2010_

_Maybe I should save everyone the trouble and just off myself right now._

_November 5, 2010_

_I'm scared. For the future, for my mother, for my friends. I'm just… scared._

_It's pathetic, really. I'm pathetic._

_November 16, 2010_

_Dunno what to do. Everything seems uncertain. Maybe I'll pull a clichéd teenager move and go write some depressing poetry._

_November 20, 2010_

_Nobody realizes the danger that's coming. And I'm unable to tell them. I can't save them. Nobody can. _

_November 21, 2010_

_I miss my dad._

_November 25, 2010_

_Blaise is an asshole. Why doesn't she do anything? Where have I been? Lost in my own foggy cloud of self-pity? I need to wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Stop feeling bad for yourself. Help someone for once, goddamnit. Help her._

_November 27, 2010_

_She's opening up to me. She doesn't know she is, but she is._

_November 30, 2010_

_Christmas is less than a month away. I want my dad to come home. Mom cries everyday. She's lonely. She can't even look at me. I think I look too much like him._

There was more. So, so much more. More hurt, more pain, more self-loathing.

I read the entire thing that night. And then I read it again. Draco didn't come back into my room. I think he just wanted me to… think for awhile. To reflect.

To realize that I wasn't alone.


End file.
